


Unexpected

by citrinesunset



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Childbirth, Discussion of Abortion, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:21:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26538766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/citrinesunset/pseuds/citrinesunset
Summary: Erik has no interest in having an alpha. Charles enjoys having flings with omegas, but certainly isn't looking for anything serious. But neither of them has been with another mutant before.When Erik gets pregnant, they both have to decide if they can commit despite their differences.
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier
Comments: 10
Kudos: 141
Collections: 2020 Cherik Bang





	Unexpected

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Cherik Big Bang 2020. Link to art to be added soon!

**Part 1: 1962-1963**

Charles was a biter. A nuzzler. A smotherer. He buried his face in Erik's neck and scraped his teeth across the skin. Every time Erik felt his hot breath against his neck, his whole body tingled.

“You're crushing me,” Erik said into the pillow.

“Am I?” Charles murmured. “So sorry about that.”

He took some of his weight off Erik's back, but his presence was still warm and heavy. The cheap hotel bed creaked under their combined weight. Charles' knot tugged at Erik's opening, and Erik huffed.

Erik had never met an alpha he could tolerate being knotted by. Sex was one thing; being stuck to the person afterward was another. Perhaps he'd been a fool to entertain this, instead of continuing to get by with fingering himself in cold showers.

But most of all, he was a fool to gasp and clench around Charles’ knot every time he felt teeth graze the back of his neck.

"How long does this normally take for you?" Erik asked, trying not to betray his annoyance. He realized immediately that his mind would betray him, even if his words didn't. But really, how long could Charles' knot last? It'd been ages.

"I'm sorry. Do you not enjoy being knotted? Most of the omegas I've been with have rather enjoyed it. It shouldn't be much longer now. We can try a different position next time, if that would help." He kissed Erik's shoulder.

Charles was talkative, as well. Sex somehow seemed to feed his energy rather than deplete it.

It was the second day of Erik’s heat. His heat suppressants had made a valiant effort at controlling his hormones but had not been strong enough to overcome the effects of sleeping in the same room as an alpha night after night.

At the start of their travels, Charles had addressed the matter head on.

"If you would be more comfortable with your own room," he'd said, "I certainly understand. Personally, I see no reason why an alpha and an omega can't travel together. It isn't like we're animals, after all. Our brains have evolved beautifully to give us a measure of control over our impulses, even if it may not feel like it at times."

Erik was glad to hear him say this. At last, a sensible alpha who didn't behave like a feral dog. Erik had never been one to cede any control to inconvenient hormones, so he had shared motel rooms with Charles for the past four weeks. He and Charles had gamely ignored the curious looks from the front desk clerks who silently questioned the nature of their relationship.

True to his word, Charles hadn't made a move on him once. Sometimes he would return to the room late, smelling like a new omega and wearing a stupid grin on his face. Erik tried not to humor his curiosity, and he absolutely wouldn’t admit that it might be envy. It was none of his business who Charles fucked. Why should he care?

But by the time Erik started going into heat, the long hours of passionate conversation and the nights of smelling Charles in the bed next to his had had their impact. Charles offered to get his own room. Erik had other ideas.

Eventually, Charles' knot was small enough for them to separate. Erik wriggled his hips and freed himself.

He told himself it was a one-time thing, but when they repeated the performance the following night, he had to drop that pretense.

* * *

Charles wasn’t oblivious to the questions in everyone’s minds when he and Erik returned to DC. They all noticed that something had changed between the two of them. Charles was more amused by this than embarrassed, but he sensed that Erik found the curiosity discomforting. So Charles did his part to carry on like normal, and gradually the curiosity grew less acute. He was used to discretion--used to hiding a part of himself. And if he couldn’t quite understand Erik’s hesitation...well, he didn’t need to. He understood enough from what he’d seen in Erik’s mind.

For his part, Charles had always prided himself on being particularly good at handling casual affairs. He'd never given much thought to finding a mate. He'd never given himself a chance to think about how much of that was due to believing he'd never find someone who was like him. Finding Erik didn't change anything, but it felt somehow like it did.

He was disappointed--but not offended--when Erik kept his distance on the CIA base. It wasn’t like they had much privacy. Charles half believed there were hidden cameras and microphones in the bedrooms. And even if he wasn't particularly modest, he'd enjoyed the privacy and intimacy he and Erik had shared while on the road. Their late night conversations in dingy roadside motel rooms were perhaps the greatest thing that had ever happened to him. He was excited and alive in a way he hadn't been in years--not since starting his genetics studies, or perhaps even since he met Raven.

When they moved their operations to his family’s mansion, he gave Erik the nicest of the guest rooms. For the first few nights, Charles lay awake with indecision. Should he go to him? Shamelessly, he used his gift to probe for signs that Erik might welcome it. But there were parts of Erik's mind that remained inscrutable.

But after a week of uncertainty, it was Erik who came to him.

Erik wasn’t in heat this time, which Charles found especially pleasing. Charles didn't see any shame in satisfying biological urges, but it was nice to be desired even when those urges were at bay.

Erik straddled Charles' lap. Charles took his time getting him wet and ready for his cock. He reached between Erik's legs and fingered him until he was rocking against his hand, desperate for more. Then Charles leaned back and let Erik ride him.

Erik seemed to enjoy this more than being taken from behind. He _did_ like to feel in control. One didn't even need to be a telepath to see that. When Charles' knot was too thick inside him for him to move, Erik rested against Charles' chest.

It was only later, as they lay side by side, that Charles realized that he’d slept with Erik more than he’d been with any other omega.

“Have you considered what you’ll do after we find Shaw?” Charles asked.

“Are you asking if I’ll stay?”

“I suppose I am.”

“I haven’t decided. I’ve done all right on my own this long. And I’ve done just fine without a mate.”

"So have I. It’s nice, though. And it’s natural to enjoy it. We’ve evolved to mate. And just because we might use contraception doesn't mean the drive isn't still there."

Erik shifted in Charles' arms. "A very pragmatic way of seeing it."

"It doesn't have to be. Who says evolution can't be erotic?”

Or, for that matter, romantic?

Erik shifted beside him. "I've never wanted an alpha. It can make you vulnerable."

"I'd never ask you to be vulnerable unless you wanted to be."

"I'm not sure that's something you can promise."

Charles had been disappointed by enough people over the years to understand Erik's hesitance. But a vision was taking shape in his mind that he liked. Erik staying. Being his mate. Being more than that--his partner. His confidant.

Perhaps after they stopped Shaw, it could be real.

* * *

Erik went into heat a couple weeks after they locked him in a hole in the ground beneath the Pentagon.

The indifference of the humans almost managed to surprise him. They could have given him heat suppressants; instead, they let him ride it out in solitude. Erik lay directly against the cool concrete floor of his cell and tried to breathe through it. Most of all, he fought against the fierce, stubborn desire for Charles. Had he forgotten what it was like to go through a heat unaided, or had he become dependent on Charles’ cock to get him through it?

Charles had promised not to make him vulnerable. In retrospect, Charles made a lot of promises that he didn't have the power to keep.

Erik didn't blame him; he blamed himself for believing.

The yearning would fade. He would come to forget the need to have Charles inside him. He would not forget what they almost had.

**Part 2: 1973**

Charles wanted to believe he’d forgotten Erik’s scent. As soon as he saw him, he knew that had been folly. The smell of Erik as they sat in the confines of the plane together was familiar in the worst way.

Then, just after they took off, Erik’s heat started.

“I'm really not in the mood, Erik.” Charles looked out the window, as though the clouds might be enough to distract him.

“I'm only like this because of you,” Erik said, having the nerve to sound vaguely miserable.

“I doubt that very much.”

Yes, an alpha's pheromones might trigger a heat occasionally, especially after a separation. But after ten years? And so soon?

Erik had always been a particularly contrary omega, but even Charles had to admit it was unlikely that he'd developed the talent of triggering a heat on purpose, or that he would choose to exercise this ability now, when Logan and Hank were present. Then again, Erik had always had a flair for drama, and very little impulse control.

Logan was on this second cigar and was doing an admirable job of ignoring the situation, but Charles had noticed the sweat on his forehead and glances in Erik's direction. He did not need his telepathy to recognize the conflict between reason and instinct. He was of half a mind to leave them alone; if Erik wanted an alpha, he could have Logan. Perhaps Logan would be willing to help him out.

But the thought of allowing another alpha to touch Erik offended his basest instincts. It was ridiculous--why should it matter? He wasn't the type of alpha to get possessive. And Erik wasn't _his_ omega anymore. If he ever had been.

He certainly wasn't going to give Erik the satisfaction of pulling him into the bathroom and easing his discomfort. Any momentary relief would turn to regret once he ended up stuck inside Erik until his knot went down. He could just imagine how smug Erik would be then.

Charles swallowed and drummed his fingers on the armrest. No, giving in to his urges would not do at all….

Unable to take it anymore, he got up and stormed toward the cockpit.

* * *

They were over the Atlantic, and the ocean was black in the night. Logan had managed to drink himself to sleep, and Charles had finally returned to the cabin. He was looking out the window with a gloomy look, even though he couldn’t have been able to see a thing. He had a glass of scotch in his hand.

And Erik--he was no better off than he’d been an hour ago. His cock was hard as a rock and his pants felt like they were soaked through.

He didn’t exactly expect Charles to take care of him. The thought of getting fucked in front of a stranger was as humiliating as being abandoned. But that didn’t change that there _was_ something shameful about an omega being abandoned by his alpha. Instinct was instinct, and whether Charles cared to admit it or not, they were bonded.

Slowly, Charles turned his head toward him.

“You look terrible,” Charles said.

“Thanks,” Erik said dryly.

“Would you rather I lie?”

Erik’s hair was damp with sweat. He brushed it out of his eyes.

“I didn’t kill the president, you know. I was trying to save him. He was one of us. If you still had your power, you could read my mind and see it was true.”

Charles looked away. Perhaps Erik was imagining it, but he almost looked ashamed.

Charles was silent for a minute. Then, with a soft sigh, he said, “Come on.”

“Where?”

Charles raised an eyebrow. “I’d rather not do this with an audience.”

_Oh._

Erik was in too much discomfort to question it. He stood and followed Charles into the small bathroom.

The bathroom wasn’t just small--it was tiny. Charles could barely close the door with the two of them in there, but somehow he managed to undo Erik’s belt and yank his pants and underwear down to his knees. He turned Erik around and bent him over the sink.

Erik keened when Charles pushed into him. He was so wet and desperate that he needed no preparation, which was fortunate as Charles seemed uninterested in foreplay. After more than an hour trapped with Erik’s pheromones, Charles must have been going into a rut. He thrust into Erik as fast as he could in the tight space, and his knot started to grow quickly--a mercy, really, considering how inopportune this was.

When his knot was too big, he stopped thrusting and leaned panting over Erik’s back. Even with Charles’ knot stretching him open, Erik clenched around it like it wasn’t enough.

“Can you move?” Charles asked, panting. “I’m going to try to sit down.”

It was a difficult maneuver, but Charles managed to turn around with Erik and sit on the closed toilet lid. Erik straddled his lap, and Charles wrapped his arms around his waist.

Fears that Logan or Hank could hear what they were doing had evaporated. In their place was a feeling of relief and contentment. It felt right, being with Charles again.

“I’m not on birth control,” Erik said matter-of-factly.

“I’m sure we don’t need to worry. It’s probably not a true heat. Not when it came on so quickly. You were just responding to my pheromones, that’s all.”

“And you’re the expert, I suppose?”

Charles squirmed. He was antsy in a way he’d never been before, and Erik wasn’t sure what to make of it.

By the time they landed in Paris, Charles’ knot had gone down and Erik’s heat was sated enough for him to pretend that nothing had happened.

* * *

Erik thought it was a stomach bug at first. Or perhaps food poisoning from the questionable meals he’d been eating while on the run.

After a few weeks, he had to admit that Charles had been entirely wrong: he _had_ been fertile, and he was pregnant.

He considered his options. Ending the pregnancy, if he could manage it, was surely the most practical decision. He had not seen Charles since their standoff on the White House lawn. Erik was a fugitive. He was not certain what he intended to do next, but he was sure that it would not be compatible with raising a child.

And yet...he was overwhelmed by the desire to see what he and Charles managed to create together. After everything he had endured and survived, there was something satisfying about the thought of bringing a child into the world. A mutant child.

It seemed more critical now than ever to fight for a world that was worthy to raise a child in.

* * *

He thought that the morning sickness would pass. But there he was, five months along and kneeling on the filthy bathroom floor as he threw up the remnants of what little he’d had for breakfast. Bland crackers and bananas had proven safest, but the nausea persisted no matter what he ate. This was the sixth straight morning, and he was getting damned tired of it.

Sometimes he thought the baby was determined to be the end of him.

His current safe house, if one could call it that, was a dilapidated warehouse. It wouldn’t do for much longer. He needed to get somewhere safe. He needed a place to have the baby, and a plan for how to do it. He would not-- _could_ not--trust a human doctor.

Soon, he would have to think about getting out of the country. But not yet. There were still other mutants to fight for.

He got dressed slowly so as not to upset his stomach. He placed his helmet on his head and draped a long cape over his shoulders. It was light but full, and when he pulled it around himself, it concealed his growing belly. In another month, it might not.

* * *

The mutants were being held in a police station surrounded by men in National Guard uniforms. _Mutant criminals._ That was what the authorities were calling them. There was a windowless, armored truck ready to transport them to a non-disclosed location.

Erik was not about to stand by and let that happen.

The soldiers had metal guns. They hadn’t learned, or perhaps they’d grown complacent, believing that he was dead or gone. Erik waited until the mutants were brought out. Rising into the air, he ripped apart their metal cuffs and chains and pulled the guns out of the soldiers’ hands.

The soldiers weren’t expecting him. The rescued mutants were fighting now, as well. They took the crude inhibitor collars off their necks and began leveling their powers against the panicking soldiers.

In the midst of the chaos, something grazed Erik’s shoulder and he nearly tumbled out of the sky. Dazed, it took him a second to realize it was a bullet. He’d missed a gun.

There was no time to think about the extent of the injury. His instincts took over. The freed mutants were handling themselves well against the soldiers. In other circumstances, he would have invited them to join him; today, he would have to satisfy himself with the knowledge that he’d given them a chance. The adrenaline was still surging through his veins, and he used the last of his strength to levitate up and away from the scene.

He didn’t stop until he was back in his safehouse. His shirt sleeve stuck to his bloodied shoulder, and he grit his teeth as he pulled it off. It was just a graze, but it was close. It was hard not to think about what could have happened if he’d been shot, or if he’d fallen to the ground.

There was a twinge in his belly. It wasn’t a contraction, but it alarmed him more than the pain in his shoulder did. Heart pounding, he lay on his makeshift bed and willed the baby inside him to be okay. He wasn’t used to having to look after himself. His well-being had always been secondary to his goals, and he would rather die than live in complacency. The baby, it seemed, had other ideas.

He couldn’t keep this up much longer. He needed a safe place for his child.

By the following morning, he’d made his decision. He knew where he needed to go.

* * *

Any time Erik’s activities made their way into the news, Charles wondered if he would one day find Erik on his front porch, shot and seeking refuge.

He never imagined it happening like this.

Erik was sitting across from him in an upholstered chair, his cape spread open to reveal the roundness of his stomach. Erik hadn’t said much, but there was no point in pretending it wasn’t obvious who the father was.

“There was footage of you on TV,” Charles said. “A reporter filmed you fighting off those National Guardsmen. It’s a wonder you weren't seriously hurt.”

Erik gave him a murderous look. “Don’t start patronizing me now just because….” He paused. “You know I can take care of myself.”

But Erik was rattled. Something had made him swallow his pride and land on Charles’ doorstep. Had it been too close of a call, or had running, hiding, and fighting simply become too difficult?

“That isn’t fair. If you’re choosing to carry my unborn child, I think I’m entitled to some concern about what happens to it.” He shook his head. “When would you have told me?”

“I _have_ told you. I'm here, aren't I?”

Only because he'd realized he couldn't manage alone. Charles didn't even want to think about what Erik's original plan had been. Give birth unassisted in an abandoned building? Take a doctor hostage?

But for once, Charles didn't want to argue. Erik was here now, and Charles would never forgive himself if he drove him away.

The main concern was Erik's health and the health of the baby. Neither of them had broached the topic of what would come next. Eventually, there would need to be some serious conversations. At the moment, Charles was still wrapping his mind around the idea of being a father. Erik had robbed him of a lot of time to think about it. Being a teacher suited him, but somehow the thought of raising a child of his own made him feel unpleasantly fallible. And what type of father would Erik be?

Was it too much to hope that they could face this together? That at least in this, they would want the same thing?

Erik was still wearing his ridiculous cape. He'd been using it to conceal his belly when he arrived, but now that he was reclining in Charles’ study, he didn't bother trying to hide. He grunted softly and placed a hand on his stomach.

“This infernal child won't stop kicking me in the ribs,” he said with a small, proud smile. “I could hardly sleep last night.”

“The baby obviously inherited your temperament,”

Erik smiled, and it was the happiest Charles could remember seeing him in many years. “But imagine the child we'll have, Charles. How marvelous it will be.”

In that, Charles couldn't find any room in his heart to disagree.

“I would like Hank to take a look at you.” He could see Erik getting ready to object, and cut him off. “At least let him look at your shoulder and check the baby’s heartbeat. We’ll need to find you a doctor somehow.”

“I won’t trust a human obstetrician. I can manage. People have managed for years.”

“Yes, and they manage better with proper care. If your concern is finding a doctor we can trust, I can use my ability."

He could make it so that the doctor didn’t realize they were treating a fugitive mutant terrorist. But perhaps that would introduce too many potential complications. In any case, he doubted Erik would be satisfied with that solution.

Charles took a deep breath. There was so much to do.

* * *

Erik looked around the room. The nursery was coming along, and he was pleased in spite of himself. Charles spared no expense, and was incredibly good at coming up with new things to purchase that Erik would never have thought of. The latest addition was a rocking chair with the same caramel-colored finish as the crib and the changing table. Erik was unconvinced that any of it was necessary, but buying things for the baby was one of the few parts of the process that Charles had control over at this point. It had given Erik some misgivings at first. The more things they had for the baby, the more Erik felt rooted in place. But Charle’s enthusiasm was proving to be infectious.

Erik had accepted long ago that having a baby was a long shot for him. If he was going to have one, he couldn’t think of anyone else he'd want as the father. And the baby would be a mutant. Charles had warned him there was still a small possibility that the child wouldn't inherit the gene. But that was too unlikely to dwell on.

(Not that he wouldn't love the child regardless. It would be his, after all.)

But pregnancy hadn't been kind to him. His back hurt. The baby kept him up at night kicking him in the ribs. The nausea continued to plague him, and now he had Charles fussing over him, giving him soups and smoothies to keep his weight up. He fed him concoctions that Hank came up with in his lab. Charles was even talking about finding a doctor for the delivery. It was a far cry from the self-sufficient pregnancy Erik had imagined.

Charles had a small class of students already, and any time Erik crossed them in the hall, he was greeted with curious stares and whispers. A pregnant omega couldn’t have been such a novel thing to them, so he assumed it was his infamy that made them stare wide-eyed when they saw him. He wondered how Charles had explained his presence in the mansion.

Had coming here been a mistake? A moment of weakness? It was Charles’ right, perhaps, to know about his child. But every day Erik spent in the comfort of the mansion, every day he watched Charles buy new baby furniture and toys, the more he realized there was no going back. He couldn't take the baby away from all this. He could never justify robbing their child of a safe home.

He was not so certain if he would stay. It was almost worth enduring a few more months of discomfort and sleepless nights if it meant delaying the moment he would have to decide.

* * *

Charles had never thought much about being a father, and the timing of Erik’s announcement left him with little time to get used to the idea.

He liked children. He loved teaching them. But having one of his own? His childhood had not provided him with much of a model to learn from. And babies were like a different species altogether.

And then there was Erik, who might have kept the existence of the child a secret if he hadn’t needed help. Charles couldn’t shake the fear of what would happen after the baby was born. Would Erik disappear in the night? And if he did, would he take the child with him or abandon it with Charles?

What was the alternative? For Erik to live there and raise the baby with him? There might have been a time when Charles had more optimism, but he’d long since accepted Erik’s nature.

Charles found Erik in the nursery, sitting in the rocking chair that had just arrived. He was floating a lump of metal in the air in front of him, twisting and shaking it like it was made of clay. At first, the metal bore a suspicious resemblance to a couple forks that had been twisted together, and if Charles were in a worse mood he would have questioned why Erik was mangling the good silverware. Instead, he watched as Erik molded them into something that looked like a rattle.

Erik plucked it out of the air, turned it over in his hands, and set it aside. He looked tired.

“How are you feeling today?” Charles asked.

“Better than I have been.”

“I have some good news. I believe I’ve found a doctor you’ll approve of. She isn’t an obstetrician, strictly speaking, but she is a mutant. She’s in Philadelphia, which is a bit of a problem, but she’s willing to take a couple trips up here to see you and help with the delivery.”

Erik sighed. “And if I go into labor, I’m supposed to wait for a doctor to come from Philadelphia?”

“She can come up when it gets closer to your due date. Please? Hank would really rather not deliver the baby, and I think you feel the same.”

Charles was less cavalier about reading Erik’s mind than he had been when they first met, but he’d been in his head enough to understand where some of his distrust of doctors came from. But he hoped that they would agree on this, at least.

Erik pursed his lips. “And she can see me here?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

Some of the tension went out of Erik’s shoulders. “Then I’ll see her. Thank you.”

Charles relaxed, as well. “I’m glad. I’ll tell her.”

They sat together in silence for a minute. There was more that Charles wanted to say, but now that their conversation had reached a stopping point, he was unsure if he should continue.

But he needed to. He knew that.

“Erik, I was hoping we could talk. About the future.”

“Charles--”

“Please. You’re going to have a baby in a few months. _Our_ baby. We need to be honest about what we’re going to do. I hope you know that you have a home here.”

“And do you want me here?

“Of course. Have I given you any reason to doubt that?”

Erik squirmed in the rocking chair. “Just because you got me pregnant doesn’t mean we see eye to eye now.”

“That’s true. I’d like to think it might not matter anymore.” Charles wheeled himself as close to Erik as he could. “I know that we haven’t had the best luck making it work between us, but perhaps it’s worth another try.”

He leaned close and kissed Erik on the lips, and he immediately felt like a fool for not having done so sooner.

Erik glanced away. “I can’t make any promises.”

“No promises, then. Will you move into my bedroom tonight? I’d like it if you were closer.”

This made Erik smile softly. “Are you sure? I haven’t been sleeping well. I’ll keep you up.”

“Or I could help you sleep. If you’d like me to.”

As it turned out, it was Charles who didn’t sleep that night. Having Erik beside him again made him feel like he’d been missing something without realizing it.

* * *

As Erik progressed into his third trimester, Charles thought they had a solid plan. The sympathetic doctor he’d found, Dr. Rosenberg, had visited from Philadelphia and assured them that the pregnancy seemed healthy. She was going to return closer to Erik’s due date and stay for a week or two.

The nursery was ready, though Charles still thought of things to tweak or add every few days.

The excitement over Erik’s presence had mostly worn off among the students, though now Charles caught them debating whether the baby would be a boy or a girl and what mutation it might have. He hoped the baby wouldn’t distract them from their studies.

But two weeks before Erik was supposed to be due, Charles woke to the nauseating sense of pain radiating out from Erik’s mind.

He opened his eyes to find Erik sitting on the side of the bed, heaved over.

“What’s the matter?”

“I’m going into labor.”

Charles blinked. It was too soon. They didn’t plan for this.

“Are you sure? False contractions are common--”

Erik looked over his shoulder and glared at him. “You also thought I wasn’t really in heat back on the plane, and we can see how that turned out. They’re not false contractions. My water broke.”

Charles swallowed down bile. “Stay here. I’ll wake Hank. We’ll call Dr. Rosenberg.”

It would take her more than an hour to drive up from Philadelphia, but labor could take hours. Days, even. They had time.

An hour later, the contractions were closer apart. Erik stayed on the bed at first. Then he insisted on getting up and pacing the bedroom. Charles watched helplessly.

“Are you sure you don’t want Hank to give you something?”

“No,” Erik bit out. “I don’t want drugs. I want to feel what’s happening.”

Erik didn’t cry out when the next contraction hit, but the pipes and vents in the walls groaned. Charles bit the inside of his cheek.

There was a soft knock on the door. Charles hoped it was the doctor, but when he answered it, he found Hank. Alone.

“Is everything okay?” Hank asked softly.

“As well as they can be, I think. Any word from Dr. Rosenberg?”

“She should be on her way.” Hank lowered his voice. “Some of the students are getting nervous. They can hear the pipes groaning. He’s not going to...cause damage, is he?”

From behind, Erik called out, “Is that Hank? I want to speak to him.”

Charles moved aside.

“If the doctor doesn’t show up,” Erik said, “can you help get this baby out of me?”

Hank paled. “Well--I mean in theory I--”

“Yes or no.”

“I guess. Yes.”

“And if I need a cesarean? Can you do that?”

Before Hank could answer, Charles said, “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. There’s plenty of time--”

Erik groaned and doubled over, and the whole mansion seemed to creak around them. Erik collapsed on the bed and Charles looked up at the ceiling nervously.

“Erik,” Charles said softly, “I know you don’t want any drugs, but what if I helped you? Can I do that?”

He wanted to do _something_. He felt useless as he was, just sitting there while Erik’s pain reverberated through the pipes and threatened to rip them out of the walls. Erik was breathing deeply. He nodded once, sharply, and Charles sagged with relief.

Pain was in the mind, and even if Charles couldn’t take it all away, he could make it a little easier to bear. He brushed Erik’s sweat-soaked hair off his face.

Hank took a hesitant step into the room. “Erik? Do you want me to...take a look? See how things are progressing?”

Poor Hank. They hadn't planned it this way. To Charles’ surprise, Erik nodded. He spread his legs, and Hank lifted the hem of his nightshirt.

Glancing at Charles, Hank said, “He’s pretty dilated. I don’t think it’s going to be much longer.”

Erik twisted fitfully against the pillows. “I need to push.”

Charles started to object, but stopped. There was no standing in the way of Erik’s determination. He should have known that by now.

The next half hour was a blur. It took all of Charles’ energy to keep Erik’s pain and his powers from overwhelming him. To keep him from ripping the pipes out of the walls. But it was nothing compared to the strength Erik summoned.

In all his life, Charles had never imagined this. If he had any remaining doubts about his bond with Erik, they seemed ridiculous now.

Dr. Rosenberg arrived as Hank was wiping the squalling baby boy clean. While she checked on Erik, Charles held his new son in his arms

* * *

Erik slept better than he had in months. He woke with a start and looked around for his baby. Instead, he saw Charles sitting by the window. He had a book in his lap, but his gaze was directed out the window. The sun was up.

“Where is he?” Erik asked, trying to sit.

Charles looked at him. “It’s okay. Hank and Dr. Rosenberg are giving him a checkup and taking some blood. They’ll bring him right back. How are _you_ feeling?”

Erik had to think about that. He felt rested, but still unbelievably tired. Childbirth hadn’t scared him in the least, but it turned out he hadn’t known what to expect at all. He felt strangely light, a void where the baby had been.

“Like I just gave birth to a watermelon. How big was he?”

“Hank thought about nine pounds. I suppose they’re confirming it now.” Charles came closer and squeezed his hand. "If you need to rest, rest. The baby will still be here when you wake up. I'll be here."

A minute later, there was a soft knock on the door. Hank came in with a small bundle wrapped in a baby blanket. Erik held out his arms for the baby.

He could remember holding his son before, but last night felt like a long time ago. This was the first proper chance he had to look at him.

Erik had always believed that babies looked more or less alike, but he was sure that this one already had Charles’ nose.

He was perfect, and they were home.


End file.
